Fortune's Little Heartbreaker

“Indeed.” Those amazing blue eyes settled on her, warm and friendly. “I appreciate you showing it on such short notice.”

What was left of her irritation vanished. “Happy to do it.”

He surprised her by turning back to the car. When he opened the back door and unfastened the boy from his car seat, she realized he hadn’t come alone. Once the child’s feet were firmly planted on the ground, the toddler looked around, gave an ear-splitting shriek and barreled after the corgi that had just leaped from the vehicle.

“That’s Ollie. My son,” Oliver told her, pride in his voice.

Oliver let the boy scamper a few yards before scooping him up. Ollie giggled and squirmed but settled when Oliver said something in a low tone.

“Barnaby.”

The crisp sound of his name had the corgi turning. Oliver motioned with his hand and the dog moved to his side.

He looked, Shannon thought, like a man totally in control of the situation.

Oliver gazed speculatively at the house. “Since your father knows I’m looking for immediate occupancy, I assume the home is empty.”

Shannon smiled. “You assume correctly.”

The entire tour of the furnished home took all of five minutes. If Shannon hadn’t been looking she might have missed the slight widening of Oliver’s eyes when he first stepped inside the three-bedroom, thirteen-hundred-square-foot ranch house Shannon’s grandparents had once called home.

Once she’d finished the tour, she rocked back on her boot heels, feeling oddly breathless. “What do you think?”

“I’ll take it.” Oliver put the boy down, reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet. “Sixty days with an option. I’ll pay in advance.”

“Just like that?” Decisiveness was one thing, but he hadn’t asked a single question. “Don’t you have any questions?”

“You’ve explained everything to my satisfaction.” He kept one eye on his son, who was hopping like a frog across the living room. “The fact is, I need to secure lodging close to my family.”

As Shannon opened her mouth, she wondered if she might be stepping over some line. But surely the man had other options. From what she’d observed of the Fortunes, they were a tight-knit family. “You’re not staying with them?”

“That was the plan. But apparently Amber—my brother’s fiancée—is highly allergic to dogs. As is my mother, which I’d very inconveniently forgotten.” He gestured with his head toward the corgi, who intently watched the hopping boy. “Ollie is very attached to Barnaby.”

“He’s a cutie. The boy, I mean. The dog is cute, too.” Shannon paused to clear the babble from her throat before continuing. “Will your wife be joining you?”

For just an instant a spark of some emotion flickered in his eyes before the shutter dropped.

“Ollie’s mother and I were divorced.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “Well, Ms. Singleton?”

“Please call me Shannon.”

“Well, Shannon. Do we have a deal?” He extended his hand.

When her fingers closed over his and a hot, unfamiliar riff of sensation traveled up her spine, something told Shannon that this deal might be more than she bargained for.

* * *

To Oliver’s way of thinking, money smoothed most rough patches and made life extremely manageable. Unfortunately, in the past few days he hadn’t found that to be as true as in the past. There hadn’t been anyone to carry in his bags or help him unpack once he’d closed the deal on the ranch house.

Oliver glanced around the small living room, smiling at the sight of Ollie playing with his A-B-C bricks, the dog supervising from his position under the kitchen table. The place was so small he could see the kitchen from where he stood. Unbelievably, there was only one lavatory in the entire structure.

Since it was just him and Ollie, even when they added a nanny, it would be workable. Not ideal, but they would make do, much the way he had on those school camping trips when he’d been a boy. He decided to view the next two months as an adventure.

Both Ollie and Barnaby seemed to like the small space. Even Oliver had to admit he found his temporary residence comfortable, quiet and surprisingly homey. Still, after two days of settling in, he was ready to get to work. For that to happen, he needed a nanny.

He’d made inquiries, as had various family members. So far, none of the women he’d interviewed had been acceptable. Oliver would also consider a manny, but when he’d mentioned that to the woman at the agency in Lubbock, her eyebrows had shot up. She informed him mannies were scarcer in Texas than rain in August.

Man or woman, Oliver didn’t care. He simply needed someone he could trust to tend to his son while he worked. He ran a busy brokerage firm in London. While he trusted and valued his employees, he prided himself on being personally involved with many of the firm’s larger clients.

Dealing with time zone issues was frustrating enough, but then to have Ollie call to him or start crying over his bricks tumbling down was totally unacceptable. There had to be someone suitable in the area.

His hopes of finding someone from Horseback Hollow were rapidly fading. Amber had given him a couple of names, neither of whom was willing to live in. What good would they be to him living a half hour away? With the time differences an issue, if he needed to go out or simply make a phone call, he didn’t want to wait.

The head of the placement agency guaranteed she’d find the perfect person, but kept asking him to give her more time. Well, he’d given her over two days. Since she couldn’t make it happen, he would take the reins.

He pulled out his wallet and removed the card Miss Shannon Singleton had given him to use in case of emergencies.

Oliver paused, considered. As far as he was concerned, being without a nanny for forty-eight hours qualified as an emergency.

* * *

Shannon stared at the phone in her hand for a second before dropping it into her bag.

Rachel slanted a questioning glance at her as they exited the movie theater in Vicker’s Corners. “Who was that?”

“Oliver Fortune Hayes.”

Shannon had told her friend all about playing rental agent with Mr. Fortune Hayes. Rachel had only one question—was he married?

“Mr. Hottie from the Superette.” Rachel’s smile broadened. “Tell me he called to ask you out.”

“I’m not exactly sure what he did.”

Shannon slowed her steps as the two women strolled down the sidewalk of the quaint community with its cute little shops with canopied frontage and large pots of flowers. “He said he had a proposition for me.”

A mischievous gleam sparked in Rachel’s eyes. “What kind of proposition?”

Shannon swatted her friend’s arm and laughed. “Not that kind.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Rachel gave her an admiring glance. “You’re a hottie, too. He’d be a fool not to be interested. And that man didn’t look like anyone’s fool.”

“Thanks for that.” Still, Shannon held no such illusions. If guys thought of her at all, it was as a buddy. She was twenty-five and had only had two boyfriends. Hardly a guy-magnet. “But remember, his home is in England. I want a nice local guy. Is that too much to ask?”

To Shannon’s surprise, Rachel didn’t go for the flippant response. Instead Rachel’s dark brows pulled together in thought. Her friend was a strikingly pretty woman, tall with big blue eyes and long hair so dark it looked almost black.

Though they were good friends, so much of Rachel was still a mystery. Sometimes when she turned serious and got this faraway look in her eyes, Shannon could only wonder what she was thinking.

“I love it here, too,” Rachel admitted. “I can’t imagine living anywhere else. So when you find that nice local guy, make sure he has a friend.”

“Will do. Just don’t hold your breath.”

Shannon stopped short of telling Rachel if her friend was back in Austin, she’d have men beating her door down. She still didn’t fully understand what had caused Rachel to leave Austin and move to Horseback Hollow. But in the five years that Rachel had been in town, she’d become part of the community.

“I’m not giving up hope. And you shouldn’t either. Look at Quinn,” Rachel continued. “Amelia shows up in Horseback Hollow and—boom—she and Quinn fall in love.”

Amelia Fortune Chesterfield had come to Horseback Hollow last year for a wedding and had a romantic fling with cowboy Quinn Drummond. Now they were married with a baby girl. It was their baby shower that loomed on the horizon.

“That whole thing was like a made-for-TV movie,” Shannon admitted. “But really, how often does that kind of thing happen, especially in a town the size of Horseback Hollow?”

“The fact is, oh ye of little faith, almost anything is possible. Hey, Mr. Oliver Fortune Hayes could fall in love with you, give up his home in London and the two of you could live happily ever after right here.”

Shannon paused in front of a bakery, inhaling the scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. “Have you seen a pig fly?”

“Pigs don’t fly,” Rachel said automatically.

“Exactly right,” Shannon agreed. “Until they do, your little scenario isn’t going to happen.”

* * *

Oliver glanced at the Patek Philippe watch on his wrist. His new living room was so small he could cross it in several long strides, which did nothing to dissipate his agitation.

He’d asked Miss Shannon Singleton to come over as soon as possible. That was precisely one hour and forty-five minutes ago. Oliver wasn’t used to his requests being ignored.

Of course, as she didn’t work for him, Miss Singleton was under no obligation to comply. Still, she’d promised to come as soon as she was able.

Another full hour passed. Ollie was sitting in his high chair, eating a snack of yogurt and apple slices, when Oliver heard the sound of a vehicle coming up the gravel drive.

Barnaby’s head jerked up. He let out a surprisingly deep woof, then raced to the front door, tail wagging.

Oliver tousled his son’s light brown hair. “Be right back.”

His hand was already on the doorknob when the knock sounded.

Looking decidedly windblown, Shannon stood on the porch, holding her flapping purse firmly against her waist as the strong breeze continued to pummel her. Her shoulder-length brown hair whipped around her pretty face and he realized her lips reminded him of plump, ripe strawberries.

He wondered if they’d taste as good as they looked.

She cleared her throat. “May I come in?”

“Of course.” Pulling his gaze from her lips, he stepped back and opened the door wider to allow her to pass.

“Whew.” She stopped at the edge of the living room to push her hair out of her face. “It’s like a hurricane out there.”

“Hurricane?” The wind couldn’t possibly be over thirty knots.

She laughed. “A figure of speech. If there’s a hurricane in the gulf, the only thing we get this far inland is rain. And that’s usually in the fall.”

Oliver found himself intrigued. Most women of his acquaintance would never think to appear at a requested meeting dressed in blue jeans and a white cotton shirt. Yet, he was oddly drawn to her. It didn’t hurt that she smelled terrific, like vanilla.

Yes, the beastly day was definitely on the upswing. “I appreciate you coming on such short notice.”

“I’m sorry it took so long.” She smiled up at him with such charming sweetness he found himself returning her smile and taking her arm as they strolled to the kitchen.

“You’re here now. That’s what counts.” He resisted the urge to brush back a strand of hair from her face, even as he inhaled the pleasing scent that wafted around her.

“My friend Rachel and I went to a movie in Vicker’s Corners. That’s where we were when you called. Then we went and got coffee at one of the little specialty shops. This time, we got ice cream, too. I told Rachel we shouldn’t. I mean we had a big lunch, but—”

He did his best to process her rapid-fire speech but it was as if she was speaking a foreign language. Apparently cueing in to his glazed look, she broke off and laughed without a hint of self-consciousness.

“I’m babbling.” She laughed again. “Which I sometimes do when I’m nervous.”

“I make you nervous?”

A bright pink rose up her neck. “A little.”

Truly puzzled now, he cocked his head. “Why?”

“You’re different from the men I know, the guys in this town.”

“My brothers live here. I’m not different from them.”

“I’m not well acquainted with your family. At least not with the ones from England.”

“Hopefully that will change.” Oliver gestured to the refrigerator. “May I get you something to drink?”

“Thanks. I’m fine.” She moved to Ollie’s side, the dog like a little shadow at her feet. Taking a seat at the table near the child, she smiled and picked up a piece of the apple. “This looks yummy.”

The toddler’s fingers closed around the apple slice. Her smile flashed with delight when he put it into his mouth and began to chew.

Oliver considered offering her something to eat, but rations were in short supply at the moment. He really needed to make a trip into town to the grocery shop they called the Superette.

“You said you had a proposition for me, Mr. Fortune Hayes?”

She was direct. Oliver admired that quality. Spared all the posturing.

“I’d like you to help me find a nanny for Ollie.”

Shannon leaned back in her chair and studied him for several seconds before speaking. “I thought you hired an agency in Lubbock to do that for you. That’s the buzz around town.”

Jensen had warned him there were no secrets in Horseback Hollow. “Their efforts so far have been disappointing.”

“You’ve been here two days.”

“It’s difficult to get work done when you’re caring for a child.”

Unexpectedly, Shannon laughed; a delightful sound that reminded him of bells ringing. “I don’t think any parent would contradict that statement.”

“The fact is, Miss Singleton—”

“Shannon,” she reminded him.

“Shannon.” He found the name pleasant on his tongue. “My business is a demanding one. While I’m happy to come and spend time with my family, I need to stay involved.”

“What is it you do?”

“I run a brokerage house.” It would be bragging to say more, to tell her that his firm was one of the top ones in London. Besides, it had no relevance to the current conversation.

“Oh.”

“The point is I need to find someone immediately. Of course, not just anyone will do. Ollie’s happiness and welfare is paramount. The women the agency has sent so far were totally inappropriate. This has caused me to doubt the adequacy of the agency’s screening process.”

“How were they inappropriate?” Shannon knew he’d acquired the services of the premier placement agency in Lubbock. To hear he was dissatisfied so quickly surprised her.

“The first woman hadn’t been informed this was a live-in position.” Oliver snatched from the air the piece of apple Ollie had tried to fling to a waiting Barnaby. “Interviewing her was a complete waste of my time.”

“Probably an oversight,” Shannon said diplomatically. “What else?”

“The next woman found the accommodations—” he hesitated for a second before continuing “—substandard. That didn’t concern me because I found her supercilious attitude unacceptable.”

“Many live-in nannies—” Shannon chose her words carefully since the lodging they were referring to was owned by her father “—require a private bath.”

“I completely understand her concern,” Oliver said briskly. “I’m not looking forward to sharing the lavatory either. I’d hoped the salary I was offering and the fact that it wouldn’t be a long-term placement would make that fact more palatable.”

“It must be difficult living in a home that is so far below your circumstances.”

He appeared to ignore her dry tone. “This home and Horseback Hollow may not be where I’d choose to live forever, but for the short term both are adequate.”

Shannon knew he was being kind and exceedingly tactful. But his comment only served to remind her that Oliver Fortune Hayes wouldn’t be like his sister, Amelia, or his brother Jensen, who’d come to Horseback Hollow and not only fallen in love with a local but with the town and its people, as well.

She had to keep that in mind. Despite the ooh la la factor, any relationship with Oliver would be a dead-end street.

Chapter Three

Oliver found himself enjoying his conversation with Shannon. She was obviously an intelligent woman who appeared to truly care about his situation.

“I asked Amelia for names since Amber and Jensen were fresh out of ideas.” Oliver paused and tilted his head. “Are you certain I can’t get you a refreshment?”

Shannon smiled. She had quite a lovely one. While her features were too strong to be considered classically beautiful, there was an arresting nature to her face that made a man—even one who’d sworn off women temporarily to focus on his son—take a second look.

Though he must admit, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen a woman in denim and cotton. Not to mention cowboy boots. The pants hugged her slender figure like a glove, and the shirt, though not tight, hinted at underlying curves. Yes, she was striking indeed.

“I guess I could take a cup of tea, if it’s not too much trouble.”

He was so focused on her lips that it took him a second to process. “No trouble at all.”

Oliver was putting the kettle on the stove when the doorbell rang.

“Would you like me to get that?” Even as she asked, Shannon was already rising to her feet with a fluid grace comparable to any of the ladies he knew back in London.

“Thank you, yes.” Oliver pulled his gaze from her backside and gave Ollie a biscuit. His son squealed with delight.

He heard Shannon speak, then recognized his brother’s voice.

Jensen strolled into the room, dressed casually—for him—in brown trousers and a cream-colored polo shirt. There was curiosity in his eyes when his brother’s gaze slid between him and Shannon. “I didn’t realize the two of you were acquainted.”

“Shannon showed me around this lovely home,” Oliver announced.

“That’s, ah, correct.” Shannon, who’d appeared relaxed only moments before, now appeared ready to bolt.

The fact puzzled Oliver. He’d been under the impression that while Shannon and Jensen weren’t well acquainted, they were on good terms.

“Will you have a cup?” Oliver asked his brother. “I have Fortnum & Mason.”

Jensen’s smile gave Oliver his answer, while Shannon’s brows pulled together.

“Fortnum & Mason is a popular British tea manufacturer. They have a Smoky Earl Grey blend that Oliver—and almost everyone in the family—prefers,” Jensen explained before Oliver could open his mouth.

“I’m sure it’s delicious, but I’ll have to pass.” Shannon appeared to make a great show of looking at her watch. “We can talk another time, Oliver. I have plans and I’m sure you and your brother have a lot to discuss.”

Oliver’s heart gave an odd lurch. He surprised himself by crossing the room, taking her arm and leading her back to her seat at the table. “Nonsense. You’re staying for tea.”

“Down,” Ollie called out. “Want down.”

“I can get—” Shannon began.

Oliver held up a hand, then fixed his gaze on his son. “What do you say?”

Ollie stared at him with innocent blue eyes before his mouth widened into a grin. “Pease.”

“Good man.” Oliver lifted his son down from the high chair.

Jensen exchanged a look with Shannon. “Amazing.”

Shannon cocked her head, but before Jensen could explain, Oliver looked up from wiping Ollie’s hands.

“Nothing amazing about it. Child rearing is no different from running a successful business enterprise. Rules and order are essential.” Oliver shifted his gaze to Shannon. “My brother expected me to be a bumbling feckwit incapable of rearing my son.”

Oliver pulled out a bin containing an assortment of toys, placing several before Ollie on the rug within eyeshot of the kitchen table. The whistling teakettle brought him back to the stove, where he produced three cups of the steaming brew in short order.

“Surely he’s seen you in action before?” Shannon cradled the “I Love Texas” mug in her hands with an unexpected reverence.

“Oliver only recently gained custody of Ollie,” Jensen explained. “After Diane...”

Jensen stopped and slanted Oliver an apologetic glance. In their family, private matters weren’t usually discussed in the presence of a guest.

“Diane was my ex-wife,” Oliver explained. “The divorce was already in process when Ollie was born. Because I believed a child—a baby especially—needed his mother, I didn’t fight her for custody. She recently died in a car accident.”

“She shouldn’t have been out that night.” Jensen’s voice rose and anger flashed in his eyes. “She should—”

“Enough.”

The quietly spoken word was enough to stop Jensen’s potential tirade in its tracks.

“She was Ollie’s mother.” Looking back, the person Oliver blamed most was himself. He should have paid more attention. He should have known that Diane was spending more time with her new boyfriend than with Ollie. “The accident occurred fairly recently.”

He felt Shannon’s hand on his arm, looked up to find her soft eyes filled with compassion. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“We’d been divorced over a year.”

“You were also once married to her. That means you once loved her.” She gave his forearm a squeeze, then removed her hand.

Oliver nodded briskly.

Diane hadn’t wasted any time finding another man once the baby was born. She’d been with yet another man when she died. That’s why the sadness he’d experienced upon hearing of her passing had blindsided him. He finally accepted it was understandable, given this was a woman he’d once known and loved.

Jensen steepled his fingers and his gaze settled on Shannon. “I understand you work for your father.”

“I do.” She sipped her tea and her smile told Oliver she found it pleasing. “The Triple S is a large spread. I do mostly administrative work, but in a pinch I’m able to do just about anything—feed cattle, vaccinate, castrate...”

“Good Lord.” The words popped from Oliver’s lips before he could stop them.

“You’re in the Wild West now, brother.” Jensen grinned. “Oh, and before I forget, I brought you some more names of possible nannies for Ollie. These are from Amelia since you didn’t appear happy with any of the ones Amber and I suggested.”

“I’m very particular when it comes to my son,” Oliver said without apology.

Jensen took a sip of tea, then lifted the mug higher to read the inscription—“This Ain’t My First Rodeo.” His lips twitched and he shook his head before taking another drink. Seconds later he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “The latest list.”

“Perfect,” Oliver pronounced. “We’ll take care of this right now.”

Jensen tilted his head back. “How do you propose to do that?”

“Miss Singleton knows everyone in the area.” Oliver smiled at Shannon. “She and I will go through the names over dinner and decide which ones to interview.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Shannon set down her mug, the flash of irritation in her eyes at odds with her easy tone. “I have plans.”

“Break them,” Oliver ordered. “This is more important. A child’s welfare is at stake.”

* * *

The men in Shannon’s family often told their friends that she was a contradiction: a purring kitten and a ready-to-strike rattler. The consensus seemed to be it was best not to push her too far.

The good humor drained from Shannon’s body. Did the rich and powerful Oliver Fortune Hayes really think he could, with a cavalier wave of his hand, dismiss her plans for the evening?

There was no reason for him to know that those plans were fluid. Several friends planned to eat and drink their way through platters of nachos and bottles of Corona beer at the Hollows Cantina during happy hour. They’d told her to join them if she was free.